


Paint It Red, Robin

by rare_colours



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Gen, Nail Polish, Not Beta Read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:48:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25478680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rare_colours/pseuds/rare_colours
Summary: “I think it looks good.” Tim tells him quietly, inching forward as Damian looks nonbelligerent enough to let him. He gets close enough to touch the smaller boy’s hand, tilting it to a better angle so his painted nails catch the light… “Is that glitter or shimmer?” Tim asks just before he is almost punched out.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 76





	Paint It Red, Robin

**Author's Note:**

> Started in the Capes & Coffee (I hope I got the name right, I'm running on some serious sleep-dep) misc fandom chat.
> 
> Special thanks go to unorthodoxcreativity(Kyri), CasualOtaku, Noblehunter, and probably a lot more people.

Tim enters the scary and sparkly world of nail polish due to a case.

Wait, _no_. He enters it when he grabs, pockets and keeps an old bottle of Janet Drake’s red nail polish when he gets home forlorn and exhausted after her funeral. Hold on, no… it starts further back.

It starts before a charity gala his parents are surprisingly home to attend, watching idly, legs swinging from his perch on his mother’s ornate dresser as she painstakingly paints her nails a lovely peachy pink. To this day he can still remember the smell of the drying polish mixing with her perfume and can still hear his mother’s words, indulgent, asking him to help her blow on it to dry faster.

Tim asks her if she would paint his short, perfectly manicured (because what would others _think_ dear, if we left them bitten and torn, oh, can you _imagine_?) nails later, after the gala. She agrees with a short laugh, kisses his chubby little cheeks and swans off. But she doesn’t. Tim is already asleep when they get back, and are off on yet another trip before he is up the next day.

Bruce never paints Tim’s nails, even though they spend a lot of time discussing disguises, especially female disguises as a nod at Tim’s slighter stature. Neither does Alfred, even though Tim ends up having to do the most missions requiring female disguise among all Robins. He isn’t disappointed, but it still registers, every time the chance is there and gone, passing him by. Tim notes them all as an absent afterthought.

Cass and Steph are not really into nail polish, so Tim doesn’t even try a follow-up after his initial question is met with massive disinterest. He is a bit sad, though, because Steph would look lovely with some color on her hands, and Cass could express herself more in this way. At least Tim think so.

But then comes the case. The case where his only clue is a nail polish that is not a match for any store-bought brand. And Tim is intrigued. So he rolls up his sleeves and digs deeper. He gets acquainted with frankening (no, it is not that) and indie polish brands. He learns about shimmers, glitters and holo polish. He is swamped by options and all the variations. He is… he is quite frankly in over his head.

He finds the culprit when he goes a little bit overboard and buys all the nail polish bases (for testing purposes at first) and finds the one his culprit uses, mixes and sells. From there it is easy to locate his perp, but he… doesn’t throw his hoard away. Because, (and he will only admit this at gunpoint) it is fun, and he is already itching to mix his own, custom nail polishes.

The ventilation in the Nest is top notch, he reasons, so it definitely can handle a little nail polish fume. Or… a lot. And Tim is just starting to get immersed in the strange and exciting world of mixing his own polishes. He might be already planning on custom creating all the Robin polishes… _Yeah, he totally is._

He ends up ordering all sorts of powders: glitters, holos flakies, duochrome things, who knew there were so many _options_?! And then he goes a little bit overboard by ordering all the bases from suppliers he has already tested, because apparently holo polish degrades in acidic bases. The Nest fills up with bottles of polish bases, little tubs of glitter, powders, flakes, all color-coded and stored in their new racks Tim specially ordered from etsy. He thinks he might be single-handedly keeping the franken nail polish stores in business.

He feels… frankly, he feels a bit manic. So he goes off to meditate a little, has a nap, answers work emails from Tam… And then he looks over all the things he has collected on his workbench, and blanches a little. Cataloguing nail polish bases for future recognition he can reason, but… what is he doing with all this? Bruce would be _appalled_ , if he knew. This has nothing to do with the _mission_.

So he packs it away. He puts them all in a reinforced crate, because glitter is the herpes of the craft world, and if Damian found even a little bit on him at any point in time… well. Best not to think of it. _Ever_. 

He forgets about all his stash… well, no. He doesn’t. It’s always in the back of his mind, his secret stash of polish goodies, itching at his brain. He knows well it’s just an indulgence he has no logical reason for. It’s just that he always has been drawn to nail polish, like a moth to a flame. And he wants to try mixing pretty polishes that emulate each of his vigilante family’s suits best. He really, really does. Even if it has no use.

***

He was doomed from the start. But it’s not until Damian comes back to the manor after a play-date with Jon, nails painted black and blue that the itch to get his stash back out gets unbearable.

“Jon said it is an effective means of social distraction.” Damian defends, coming face-to-face with Bruce’s intense, inquisitive stare.

“…” Bruce says, stare intensifying, face unreadable.

But Damian…Tim knows that look. Oh, does he ever. He and that look are very familiar. “You like how it looks, don’t you?” slips out before he can wrangle it back.

Damian’s waspish “Shut it, Drake.” is expected. Tim is so used to take it in stride that it doesn’t really register with him anymore. “I think it looks good.” Tim tells him quietly, inching forward as Damian looks nonbelligerent enough to let him. He gets close enough to touch the smaller boy’s hand, tilting it to a better angle so his painted nails catch the light… “Is that glitter or shimmer?” Tim asks just before he is almost punched out.

***

That night, after he gets back home from patrolling, he digs out his crate of stashed goodies. He lays out everything in order, all the bases with the little notes of longevity, adhesive strength and… well, strength, all the dusts, colorants and… and the holo. _ALL_ the holo dusts.

Tim takes a moment to proudly (and excitedly) survey his hoard in all of its glory, then he takes out the empty polish bottles with the little ball bearings the cutesy little funnels… and gets to work.

The first bottle is a mess. He starts filling it up with holo dust and glitter, and it turns out he should have used a little less… _A lot less._ He tips it a little, looks hard, fails to even locate the two little mixing balls he added to the base and decides to add a dash of blue colorant. Shrugs.

“Just perfect for Dick!” He tells his firstborn polish, because if he is honest with himself, it looks like the infamous Discowing in a bottle. He is _so_ proud.

Next he mixes something for Cass, because he feels she should have _all of the nice things_. He uses shimmers and duochromes in jewel tones, so it’d glitter and spark joy with every movement, makes almost ten different sparkly shades before he can catch himself. He kind of wants to try them all out, but limits himself to painting his little plastic nail wheel thingies he got as free gifts. Using Cass’ polish first would be a sacrilege.

He makes a few bottles for Steph, one for Jason, because why not, and obviously Kon and Bart need pretty nails too… When he comes back to himself, he has filled about… **_holy glitter, Batman!_** He has filled more than thirty bottles with polish. To be fair, he has already given most of them away in his head. (But there is one… a sleek bottle that he intends to keep for himself. It’s a red holo polish with black metallic flakies. He has already painted it on his nails, and _lookit, how it glitters!_ Well, either that or he is sleep-deprived and high on nail polish fumes.)

He looks across his workbench and sighs. “I have a problem.”

He stands up, caps every bottle well and good and trudges off to faceplant into his bed, because in the evening he will have to distribute a lot of polishes.


End file.
